Inked
by wee kraken
Summary: Four never thought he'd end up with a back that's more ink than skin. But Dauntless initiation changed his mind...and his body...forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all - this is a mini story, or maybe an extended one shot - the story of what was going through Four's mind when he decided to get each of his tattoos. There will be five short chapters, one for each symbol, and maybe a sixth bonus chappie if people are into it, will try to update pretty quickly since I'm working on two stories at once. There are some minor links between this story and my other two Four stories (Killing Four and As Expected), so check 'em out! Thanks for reading!**

**I do not own the characters of Divergent.  
**

* * *

The first is a transformation.

I just hurled myself off a building, and was nearly crushed in a closet. I killed a woman. I fought a dozen carbon copies of the man who has terrorized me for years.

It was all in my head – a simulation. But my fears have never felt so real.

There were only four obstacles in my fear landscape. When I emerged from the room, sweaty, shaking, people looked at me in awe. Apparently, I am some sort of Dauntless prodigy, with a new nickname to prove it. They think I am nearly fearless. But I know better. I came here through cowardice, a desperate attempt to escape my brutal childhood. I didn't know that the first thing I'd do was face everything I left behind.

I walk down the narrow path towards the Pit, and this time, I force myself to look down. I let the fear course through me, up from my gut and out with my breath, into my pores and out through my fingertips.

I pretend it doesn't exist.

I need to stop looking back, and embrace what's in front of me. I need to get used to black clothes and loud voices, to pride, and bluster, and brutality. I need to fight to strengthen my body and quiet my mind. I need to be…Four.

I push open the glass door. The tattoo place is empty of people, but full of color – the walls covered with drawings of black ravens, green snakes, red eyes, orange flames. I stop and stare; I've never been in a decorated room before.

"Hello, there. Here to get inked?"

I turn to face the woman standing behind me. She's at least ten years older than me, a few streaks of grey running through her short dark hair. A simple tattoo of blue waves runs up one of her arms.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You guess so?" She shakes her head. "Better be sure. It's not going to wash off."

I nod. "I'm sure."

She shoots me a grin and starts setting up. "You're a transfer, aren't you," she says. "Bet I can guess what you want."

I raise my eyebrows.

"You want the Dauntless symbol."

"Are we all that predictable?" I frown.

"Yes," she laughs. "I should know - I've got one too. I transferred from Erudite." I finally smile. At least she knows a little bit of what I'm going through. She sticks out her hand. "I'm Tori."

I'm still not comfortable shaking hands. I'm also not comfortable with my new name.

"Four."

"So _you're_ the initiate with only four fears."

"You've heard of me?" I try to sound cocky, Dauntless. But it comes out unsure, humble…Stiff.

"The entire faction has heard of you. Even if they have no idea who you actually are. Or where you came from."

I freeze. She knows I came from Abnegation…and who my father is. I look into her dark eyes, and they are searching, curious. She hasn't entirely left Erudite behind.

"You were at the Choosing Ceremony."

"I was," she says, her eyes still on mine. "And…_Four…_it seems like you made the right choice." Her words hang in the air for a moment. Then she claps her hands together, all business again. "Well, let's get you in the chair. Where do you want it? Most people get it on the shoulder, but -"

"No. I want it on my back."

"No one will see it," she smirks. "Unless you like taking your shirt off."

"It's not for other people to look at," I snap.

"Okay, I get you," she says. "But let's give them a hint. Let's make it big. Let's make you Dauntless."

I tug my shirt off reluctantly. She sketches the Dauntless symbol across my spine, my shoulder blades. Flames flicker around my ribs, torch my chest, and curl up onto my neck. The edges will show just above my collar.

I look in the mirror, my reflection now even more unfamiliar, transformed into something new. My father would hate it. I smile.

"Let's do it."

She shoves a tube of black ink into the machine. "Lots of flames. It's going to burn."

The needle starts to buzz, and I grit my teeth.

"Don't worry," I say. "I'm used to pain."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, thanks for all the reviews, you're really inspiring me! Keep 'em coming. This is tattoo #2.**

* * *

The second is a revelation.

I just won my latest fight. I beat Eric until he bled, his nose crooked, spouting crimson. He ended up on the floor, clutching his face, and moaning. I think he spat out a couple of teeth. I kept kicking him anyway. Amar yanked me off him and threw me out of the room.

I'm sitting on the rocks at the bottom of the chasm, letting the spray cool my rage. I had a dozen good reasons to be angry with Eric, but I barely remember them now. I look at my swollen knuckles; I can't unclench my fists. I don't recognize the person I've become.

I joined this faction to be brave, to feel strong, to never again cower in front of my father. Now, I see his face when I look in the mirror. I am not sure I belong here anymore.

I sigh, haul myself to my feet, and walk up the path, one foot in front of the other, repeat. Two hours until sleep, then get up and face it all again.

When I get to the top, I see that I'm not the only one having a bad day. Zeke's friend Shauna sits near the railing, dangling her feet over the side into the mist. Her face is bruised and her hair is down, hiding her eyes. I stop, wary. I don't trust anyone, though she's probably not much of a threat - Shauna is the worst fighter among the Dauntless-born initiates. She's one loss away from being cut.

She looks up and sees me, brushing her bangs to the side. Her eyes are red, though I don't see tears.

"Hey Four. I heard you kicked Eric's ass," she says, her voice low and trembling. "Well done."

"It's not really something I want to celebrate."

"Yeah, well, me either," she says roughly. "Jason wiped the floor with me, and he's slower than an Amity on peace serum."

I frown and sit down next to her. Jason's a decent fighter, with a powerful right hook, but he's not very bright. She should be able to beat him with a little strategic thinking.

"You're a transfer. Where'd you learn to fight like that anyway?" she asks. I hate these kinds of questions. I can hardly tell her that I grew up with violence, that abuse hones your reflexes and warps your morals – perfect training for Dauntless initiation.

I shrug. "Stiff Fight Club."

She looks at me, her eyes wide. "Seriously?"

I roll my eyes. "No! Are you always this gullible?"

She laughs and punches me in the shoulder.

"Look, you don't have to be a muscle-bound brute to win these fights. Use speed, and exploit your opponent's weaknesses."

"Will you show me? Some tips, I mean," she looks at me, her eyes pleading.

I look at her. This girl is my competition. I barely know her. But she needs help.

I grab the railing and stand up. I extend my hand, palm up, arm outstretched. She reaches up to grab it as I help her to her feet. I stare down at our linked hands, the symbol of Abnegation come to life. Maybe I haven't left it all behind.

"Come on, Shauna. Let's go beat each other up."

* * *

Late that night, I head up to Tori's shop, hoping she'll be the only one there. I see her behind the counter, alone, frowning at a computer screen. I close the glass door silently behind me.

"I want another tattoo."

She jumps, startled. "God, Four. I'm going to tie a bell to you or something." She eyes me appraisingly. "It's pretty late. Can it wait?"

"Sorry. It's just…I kind of need to keep this one quiet."

"Why? A girl's name? Not a good idea," she says with a smirk. When she sees my expression, her smile fades.

"I want the Abnegation symbol."

"That's definitely not a good idea."

I stare at the floor. "I know it's not. But it's part of me."

She grabs my arm, drags me into the back room, and pulls the curtain shut. She whirls around to face me, her eyes worried. "Four, it's dangerous. Faction before blood, remember?"

"This has _nothing_ to do with blood," I growl. I start to pace. "It's about my thoughts, my…intentions. There's more to me than Dauntless, okay?"

Tori looks at me, frozen in place, her face pale. "Four," she says, her voice low and urgent, "what were your aptitude test results?"

I stare at her. I haven't told anyone about my results, and I have no intention of sharing them now. But something in her eyes changes my mind.

"Abnegation. Why?"

"Who tested you?"

"A Candor woman. I think her name was Tara."

Tori looks shocked. "A _Candor_ told you your results were Abnegation?"

I stare at her. There is only one reason for her reaction. She thinks the Candor woman lied to me. But that's impossible.

"Yes."

"And you chose Dauntless anyway?"

I scowl and fold my arms. My choices are none of her business. "Tori, are you going to do the tattoo or not? Because if you won't, I'll find someone who will."

She smiles grimly. "No, I think you better stick with me. Just don't…show it to anyone."

I pull my shirt off and glance down at the Dauntless flames licking at my ribs, fire that transformed me. Abnegation's clasped hands would reveal me. Of course I'll keep them hidden.

"There isn't anyone I want to show it to," I mutter.

Tori picks up a tube of gray ink, and catches my eye.

"Not yet. But there will be."

* * *

**one last note - read my story "As Expected" to see my version of Four's aptitude test - if you're wondering about what I'm talking about. And someone should write a Stiff Fight Club fic, right? :-) Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again - THANKS again for all the reviews, I'm definitely going to do a sixth chapter. Always like to hear what people are thinking, because I like doing backstory when going in depth on a character - so let me know! More pre-Divergent fun to come. And special note to Serenity2012 - stay with me till I get there, because I think you'll be happy.**

**This is tattoo #3 - and I do not own Divergent, or the ink on Four's back.  
**

* * *

The third is an education.

I just offered up my neck to yet another shot of serum – stage two, day two. Yesterday's simulation almost wrecked me – for 24 hours, Marcus has been haunting my thoughts and my dreams. A small, sick part of me hopes he'll be there again today, beating me until I learn to face him with my head held high. I wonder how many times it will take before I finally lose my fear – or my mind.

My eyes close. I am in a large room, surrounded by wooden walls, alone. I turn around suspiciously; I should be quaking with fear, but I am not afraid of this place. Until I hear the creaking noise.

The walls are closing in.

My breathing quickens, and my heart starts to pound. I see no doors, no windows, no way out. Now the walls are close enough to touch, and the ceiling starts to descend. I crouch down, gasping, pushing at the wooden planks locking me in. Then the room tilts, and I'm on my back, the ceiling pushing down on me, cutting off the light.

I am in a coffin.

I run my hands up, down, and around; I am surrounded. I punch upwards, trying to break out, but all I'm rewarded with is fear and pain. I can't escape. I start to groan, biting down on my fist to keep from losing my mind to panic. I need to think. But I can't think my way out of here…or maybe I can. _ I am in a simulation._ This is all in my head, and if it's my brain, I can control what happens.

I push against the wooden ceiling, and will it into splinters.

I gasp and sit up in the metal chair. Amar is standing in front of me, arms crossed, his brown eyes stern. He just looks at me, and says nothing.

I'm not sure what I did wrong. I stand up. "Am I finished?"

"No." He stalks over to the door and wrenches it open. "Follow me."

The hall is empty; I had the last slot today. Amar marches me out into the Pit and starts up the path leading up to the exit above. I shoot him a questioning look.

"I said _move,_ initiate!" he bellows. A couple of nearby members laugh. I obey without question, jogging up the walkway, through the upper hallways, and out into the afternoon light. Amar walks over to the tracks just as a train appears, and jumps in easily. I pull myself in after him, landing awkwardly on the dusty floor.

He turns to face me, and the anger is gone. "Sorry about that. But we needed to be somewhere where we won't be overheard."

I just look at him. I have no idea what he's talking about.

"You manipulated the simulation," he says. "How?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I do. You're Divergent, that's how." My mouth drops open – I guess that Candor woman did lie to me. Amar's eyes narrow. "You didn't know, did you?"

I turn and lean into the wall of the train car and shake my head.

"But you know what it means," Amar looks at me shrewdly. I nod slowly. He's seen my simulations. He's the only person in Dauntless who knows what – and who – scares me. There's no point in lying.

"Yes. A couple of years ago I overheard Marcus talking about it with one of the other council leaders…that the Erudite were tracking them."

Amar's face turns grim. "The Erudite find them…and the Dauntless kill them."

I generally expect the worst in people, but even to me, this sounds crazy. "And how would _you_ know that?" I say derisively.

"I know because I'm the one who's supposed to turn you in," he says, looking at me coolly.

A gust of wind blows through the open door. The train is eight stories up, clattering alongside damaged roofs and bombed out warehouses. If Amar wants to get rid of me, all it would take is one good push. I straighten up and watch his eyes, tensing my muscles, curling my hands into fists. I'm not going down without a fight.

Amar rolls his eyes. "Oh relax, Four. I'm not going to throw you off the train. I brought you out here so I could teach you how to get though the simulations without giving yourself away." He grimaces. "How to be normal…well, as normal as someone with only four fears can be."

I narrow my eyes. "Why would you help me?"

"Why do you think?" Amar drops his gaze and rolls up his long sleeves, revealing his forearms. Two subtle tattoos twist up each limb, just a shade darker than his brown skin – if you didn't know where to look, you'd miss them. On the left arm, a chain of Erudite eyes burst into flame. On the right, the roots and gnarled trunk of a tree, disappearing into the crook of his elbow. Powerful, intricate, hidden - Tori's work.

"Erudite and Amity," I say softly. Amar nods. "No Dauntless?"

"No. I was born an Erudite. My father told me to transfer, that Amity would be the safest place for me. But I didn't see the point. I knew I was being hunted…so why not learn to defend myself?"

"You sound pretty Dauntless to me," I say. I joined Dauntless to run away from fear; Amar decided to face it head on. My nickname is a total joke – this man has real courage, and he's not even acknowledging it. He should have been a Stiff.

"What?" he says. I realize I am staring at him. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

"Nothing…just…if they really are killing the Divergent, why haven't they gone after you?"

"They don't know about me yet. My father hacked into the central servers and changed my aptitude test results. And if they do find out what I am –" His eyes glint menacingly. "I think they'll find me very difficult to kill."

I straighten up, and my eyes meet his. I am a survivor too.

"So teach me."

* * *

I lie in the net, my hands over my eyes, still recovering from the jump I took five minutes earlier – the most risky way to enter the compound, but the least noticed. It was just as terrifying the second time around. I breathe in and out as Amar taught me, quieting my mind. From now on, I'll have to keep even more of me hidden, keep my temper in check, my thoughts in line. I'll need to think logically in the midst of fear. Survival here will take more brains than brawn.

I roll off the net and wander towards the Pit. Before I realize where I'm going, my feet take me to Tori's shop.

_I am brave. I am selfless. I am intelligent._

When she sees me, she just jerks her head towards the back room and sighs. I follow her through the curtain.

"Please tell me you're here for a spider or something," Tori says, picking up a book of designs.

"Erudite."

"The all-knowing eye," she says sarcastically, her face hard. She slams the book down on the countertop. "I get the other two. But why do you want to honor a bunch of arrogant know-it-alls?"

"It's where you came from," I say warily.

"Exactly. So I should know."

I sit down, but Tori remains standing, a scowl on her face. Obviously there's some bad history there. I would never ask why. But it means I will have to explain.

"Tori, it's not about the people, or the faction. I just want to…remember."

She looks towards the wall, her eyes suddenly sad. "Remember what, exactly?"

I look up at the rocky ceiling, searching for the right words. "I want to remember the values they started with. Knowledge. Intelligence. Education." I rub the fresh scars on my hands. "If I forget that here, I'll never survive," I say quietly.

Tori looks down at the indelible river flowing down her arm. She sighs and reaches for a needle. "Just…get undressed, Four."

"You're the only one who ever says that to me." I smile at her to relieve the tension as I tug my shirt over my head.

"Yeah, well, keep your pants on, or I just might tattoo their stupid eyeball on your ass," she growls. She picks up a tube of dark blue ink and smirks.

"At least it will match your eyes."


	4. Chapter 4

**This is tattoo #4. Before you read, a warning - even though this is set pre-Divergent, there is a BIG FAT INSURGENT SPOILER in this chapter, even if this scene is my creation. You have been warned.  
**

**Thank you again for all the reviews and encouragement. It makes it all worth it, especially because this was not an easy chapter to write.**

**I do not own Divergent or Insurgent.**

* * *

The fourth springs from deception.

I just told Max no. Again. He ambushed me on my way back from the training gym and pulled me into his office, making sure we walked past Eric's desk while he offered me a leadership job "one last time." If looks could kill, I'd be dead right now. I should start looking around corners.

Zeke should too – sooner or later, Eric will find out who nicknamed him "Leftovers."

My friends think I'm nuts. Even Amar thinks I should accept Max's offer. _You could change things, Four._ But I think he's wrong. The Dauntless leaders aren't interested in anything but power. They'll never listen to a seventeen-year-old ex-Stiff with an overactive conscience, especially one who would also try to break the Abnegation leader's nose at the start of every council meeting. Not ideal for inter-faction relations.

So instead, I sit in the control room monitoring camera feeds, a year after I ranked first at initiation. But that's not all I monitor. Gate codes, protected files, security plans – all the information is there if you know how to hack it. I don't trust my faction's leadership, and this way, I know I'll be prepared for whatever comes.

Except this.

A message blinks on the corner of my inbox. I log in and tap it, but it looks strange. On the screen is a single question:

_What did you hide underneath the floorboard in your bedroom?_

I stare at the screen, absolutely still. The floors in Dauntless are stone. When I was a child, my mother gave me something she knew my father would never approve of – a small sculpture of blue glass, brought from her former home in Erudite, a splash of color in a sea of gray. She told me to hide it underneath the floor, to look at it when I wanted to remember her. It is one of the few good memories of my childhood.

She is the only person who knows the answer to that question – and she's dead. I swallow hard, and type in the answer.

* * *

I arrive at the train yard early. I want to see her before she sees me – if it's even her at all. The place is deserted, filled with the rusted hulks of engines, broken beyond repair. Empty tin cans litter the ground. This is factionless territory.

I climb on top of an overturned boxcar and sit down to wait. A few minutes later, I see a tall middle-aged woman walking down the tracks, wearing the ragged mix of cast-offs the factionless make do with. She has olive skin, a hooked nose, and dark curly hair, pulled back from her face.

It's her.

My mother.

Alive.

I clench my jaw; I feel the blood pounding in my ears. Seven years. That's how long she left me alone with Marcus. Seven years of grief and abuse and humiliation, until the day I Iet my blood flow onto the Dauntless coals. I stand up, my fists clenched. There is only one thing I want to say to her.

"You lied." My voice is quiet, but it carries. She turns and sees me, her hand over her eyes against the glare.

"Tobias. You look so…tall."

I jump down from the car and land in front of her. "I was nine when you abandoned me. I grew. Is that some sort of surprise?"

She moves towards me as if to hug me, and I stop her with a look. If she thinks this is going to be some sort of happy family reunion, she is in for a rude awakening.

"Stay right there," I say coldly. "And keep your hands where I can see them."

Up close, she looks very different to the woman I remember. Life as a factionless has stolen her softness, and her eyes are cautious and cold. She is no longer Abnegation – but maybe that, too, was a lie. How could she ever have been selfless, if she chose to leave her only child?

"You think I'm here to hurt you?" she says, frowning.

"I have no idea why you're here."

"I just found out where you were…that you left _him._ I was sure you would stay in Abnegation. The minute I found out you left, I knew I had to try to see you."

"Of course I left Abnegation!" I snap. "Why on earth would I stay anywhere near Marcus?"

She winces at sound of my father's name. "Tobias, I had to leave. I…" Her face crumples. "I had an affair. I'm not proud of it, but your father treated me terribly. It was a way out. He said I was dead to him, and dead to you. He told me if I came back, he would kill me."

I fold my arms and glare at her. "You should have taken me with you."

She spreads her arms wide, gesturing. "To this? I was factionless – starving, no friends, no community. It was no place for a child. It was safer to leave you with your father."

"_Safer_?" I say incredulously. "Do you have any idea what he did to me? Did you really think it would be any different than how he treated you?"

Her eyes widen in horror. "I…I didn't know…I never thought…"

"Yeah. You didn't think." I kick a tin can towards the tracks and watch it clatter across the yard.

"And now you're Dauntless," she says softly. "Do you think you made the right choice?"

I stare at her, stony faced. "Don't pretend you care. Just…don't."

She looks at the ground. Finally, she raises her head, and tries again. "If we had been what we are now, I would have taken you with me."

I frown. She's factionless. What is she talking about?

"It's different now. We're more organized, we have safe houses, food sources. We have friends…even families." Her voice catches. "You could visit me."

I pull my shirt collar down far enough so she can see the Dauntless flames that torch my neck. "Faction before blood, Evelyn. Remember?"

She scowls, and her eyes turn hard. "So you'd rather spend time with a bunch of cutthroat adrenaline junkies than your own family?" she snaps.

I straighten up, furious. If this is her idea of family, I don't want any part of it.

"I don't spend time with liars."

I turn my back to her and walk away. I walk through the train yard, through the garbage strewn streets. I walk until I can't hold my anger in any longer.

And then I run.

* * *

I storm into Tori's place, still sweating, breathing heavily. She looks up from the counter, surprised. I walk right past her, into the back room, ripping the curtain aside. I tug my shirt off and throw it in the corner. I already know what I want.

Tori steps into the room slowly, closing the curtain behind her, her eyes wary. She's never seen me truly angry – few people have.

"Hey, Four. It's been a while."

"Candor. I want Candor. On my back. Now."

She walks slowly over to a table and starts to sketch out the design. "I'm not going to argue with you. I've learned that lesson. But you're pretty upset, and I feel like I should ask you why."

"Because I don't like _liars_," I hiss.

"And you're honest?" she asks, looking up at me.

I sit down on the chair and put my head in my hands. I can still feel the anger, the throbbing in my temples. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"No. But I want to be."

"I don't think you can afford to be."

I lift my head and see the worry in her eyes. She suspects I am Divergent, I can tell. And she's right – to survive here, I lie - easily, and often.

"I wish I could tell the truth – about a lot of things," I say quietly.

"In other words, you wish you could give the leadership a piece of your mind," she says.

"Something like that," I say – a half truth, a half smile. She thinks I've had a disagreement with Max, or Eric.

"So do I," she says harshly. As quick as it comes, the anger disappears from her face. I remember that I'm not the only one that has a past. I don't know if I can call Tori my friend, but we're comfortable around each other – mostly because we both know not to ask too many questions.

"Do you still want those stupid scales on your back?" she says, holding up a tube of white ink. "And you better answer me honestly."

I roll my eyes. "Yes. Just do it."

"Well, I won't lie," she says with a smirk, holding up the needle. "The truth hurts."

I close my eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back, after a little hiatus to work on my other story (_Killing Four_. Take a look. No, I don't actually kill him.). This may be Four's fifth faction tattoo, but it isn't his last dose of ink. There will be a sixth chapter coming up soon.**

**Thank you again for the reviews, you guys really make this worth it. This is tattoo #5.  
**

* * *

The fifth is about compassion.

I just got smacked across the face. Hard.

After nearly two years of living here, I should know by now – alcohol, Dauntless girls, and me aren't a good mix.

I didn't intend to get drunk tonight. But it was a rough day. Max asked me to take over training the transfers for the next initiation cycle, and in a moment of idealistic insanity, I agreed. Then he left me with Eric for the afternoon. After three hours of condescending crap about knife throwing, ultimate fighting, and how to ferret out the Divergent so we can "test their loyalty," I was ready to demonstrate some fighting techniques on his face.

Now the whole bar just saw me take a hit from a girl, and the ones laughing hardest are my friends.

"What did you do to poor Keira?" Shauna says, eyes wide with concern. I slam one beer down on the table, and hold the other one up to my jaw.

"Nothing! I was standing there talking to Jason, and she just came up and stuck her tongue down my throat."

Zeke smirks. "From where we were sitting, it looked like you liked it."

I scowl. I did like it, at first. I'm not a saint. She was blond, and bold, and curvy, and didn't ask permission. But after a while, my stupid Stiff-wired brain cut through the beer haze, and I pushed her away. I can't do relationships like the rest of my friends, trying people on like clothes to see if they fit. Zeke goes through girls like a bulldozer, but I don't kiss anyone I don't trust. Which means so far, I don't kiss anyone at all.

"What did you say to her?" says Lauren.

"I told her I wasn't interested."

Shauna raises her eyebrows.

"Well, actually I told her to get lost."

She looks at Lauren and they shake their heads. Zeke bursts out laughing.

"What was I supposed to do? Saying no wasn't working too well."

"Four, you may have ranked first, but when it comes to girls, man, you are dead last," Zeke chokes out.

"That's not true!" protests Shauna. "A lot of girls like him," she says, not meeting my eyes. Oh no. I hope she's not one of them.

Lauren snorts. "He's just not very nice to them."

She offers me another beer, but I wave it away. My buzz is long gone. "Look, I try to be kind when I…"

Zeke grabs the beer instead. "Four, you're a good friend, hell, I'd trust you with my life, but "kind" isn't exactly a word I'd use to describe you."

Shauna and Lauren nod. I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. I know they're right. But I'm not in the mood to be analyzed. I stand up. "I have to go."

"Aw, man, don't leave," Zeke slurs. "It's okay if you're mean and scary. We still like you."

"I'm scary?" I smirk. "Try pissing off a Dauntless female. Then you'll know fear."

"Damn straight!" Lauren says, pounding the table with her fist.

They wave at me as I walk out of the bar. I head out into the Pit and look up towards the glass ceiling. It's pitch dark outside, but I'm not ready to sleep yet. I need some air.

I walk up the path and out into the night. The train tracks are deserted. I haven't been out here much recently, not since Amar's body was found near the tracks. The leadership said it was a suicide, that he had bravely chosen death. I know that's a lie. He was murdered for being Divergent, and I could be next. Now I don't go anywhere without a weapon.

Amar was older than me, more of a mentor than a friend. But I miss his stern advice, his intelligence, his compassion. Helping me was a big risk. Maybe it killed him. He should have sought refuge in Amity.

A train rounds the corner, and suddenly, I know where I want to go. I jump on board easily, and lean out of the door, breathing in the night air. The city buildings slip by in darkness. It's long past midnight. The lights have been out for hours, except for the Erudite, who don't seem to care about any rules but their own. I see their complex blazing in the distance, and wonder what they're doing that needs so much energy.

By the time the train stops at the fence, the sun is almost up, a pink glow rising over the marshy lake bed in the distance. I jump out and nod to the Dauntless guards, who look half asleep, and tell them I have business in Amity. I type in the gate code and they wave me through.

I haven't been outside the fence since I was a child, on some lower levels trip to some cornfields to learn about farming. I breathe in the smell of earth and dew and manure like a distant memory. Before long, the road leads into trees, leafy, dark, and heavy with fruit – an apple orchard. I sit down at the base of a tree and close my eyes, soaking in the stillness that comes before dawn.

I wake up a couple of hours later, the sun filtering through the leaves. I hear people talking, so I stand up quietly. I don't want to be seen here in black clothing. The Amity are welcoming, but they don't trust the Dauntless.

I don't blame them.

I turn to walk back to the fence, peering through the leaves. And then I stop. In a clearing beyond the trees, a large group of Amity stand together, having some sort of meeting. They talk together quietly in small groups of two or three, like the Abnegation I grew up with. But then they start to move, their colorful clothing blurring together, forming larger groups, clasping hands. They start laughing. Someone starts singing. They look happy.

It has a simple beauty. Kind. Peaceful. Everything that I am not. Something I could try to become.

* * *

Tori looks up from a sketchpad as I step inside her shop. It's deserted.

"Slow night?" I say.

"Yeah. I don't mind. In a few weeks this place will be full of fresh meat."

I grin. "The transfers."

"Flames, snakes, spiders…the usual stuff," she says with a grimace. Her eyes narrow. "I heard you're training them. Don't give them any crazy ideas."

"I think they'll come up with plenty on their own." I lean against the counter. "So. Speaking of crazy ideas…"

"Here for the tree? I was wondering when you would show up for the last one."

"I've been busy. And…for a while, I didn't think it mattered."

Tori frowns. "What changed your mind?" she says. I'm surprised she asked.

"Getting smacked in the face."

"From what I hear, that happens to you almost every day." She shoots me an evil grin.

I roll my eyes, and pause, looking at my hands. "Maybe I learned to appreciate ordinary acts of kindness."

She nods and turns over a page on her sketchpad.

"I'm a step ahead of you already." She holds the drawing up - green branches and leaves circling around an ancient, twisted tree. I've never seen the Amity symbol look so alive.

I smile slowly. "Get out the needles."

I slip my shirt over my head, and she starts drawing her design on the small of my back.

"You're almost out of room," she says.

"This is my last one."

Tori smiles. "We'll see." She picks up a needle. "So what do you have planned for the initiates? Poor bastards. As an instructor, you are going to be absolutely terrifying."

I grin. "And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it." At least until Eric butts in.

She taps her finger against a tube of green ink and shakes her head.

"Now Four. Be nice."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N at end. There are slight Insurgent spoilers in this chapter. I do not own anything written or created by Veronica Roth.**

**_I'll be your family now._  
**

**_-Tobias  
_**

* * *

The sixth will be pure adoration.

Tris told me she loved me tonight. The words slipped out along a river of grief, water over a cliff, gone before they began. But then she said it again, she said it to _me_, her voice steady and her eyes clear.

She said it without fear. And so did I.

Now I lie next to her, in a room that I once considered a prison, and I feel free.

I look at Tris, and she looks at me. We are dirty and tired, our brains running on empty. We don't speak, and we don't sleep, too amazed that we are both still alive. My hand skims her hair. I can't stop touching her. I need to know that she is real, that she has survived.

Moonlight spills through the window, highlighting her body's angles – cheekbones, shoulders, elbows. Tris is all edges and hollows, sharpness and softness. Her skin glows silver. I trace my fingers over the three ravens on her collarbone, outlining each bird's flight. She places her hand over mine.

"Tobias," she says softly. Even in darkness, her eyes are still bright. "I want another one."

I brush a strand of hair off her cheek. "Another what?"

"Another raven. For the last member of my family. Someone I love."

She moves my hand to her chest, and presses it over her heart. "Right here," she whispers.

My fingers feel her warmth, the slight swell of her breast, her heart still beating, steady, alive. I touch my forehead to hers and breathe her in. She smells like sweat and soap and sadness. But as I lean in to kiss her, she smiles. My lips move against hers, slow, and sure, and safe, like we have all the time in the world to be together.

If only that were true.

I kiss the tip of her nose, and her eyelids grow heavy. "Where you go, I go," I say, as she curls into my chest. My breath stirs her hair. I feel her hand slip under the hem of my shirt, making sleepy circles over each tattoo on my back. I run my fingers down the knobs of her spine and pull her closer. She slips one of her legs between mine. Nothing will pull us apart.

"Sleep," I whisper, as her eyes slowly close.

* * *

I wake up right before sunrise, as weak, watery light tries to break through the clouds. It will be a grey day; the same color that surrounds me in my father's house. Tris is asleep, her body small and still. She is still wearing the white tank top and shorts she was given in Erudite, the clothing she was supposed to die in. She needs something new, to wear black again, to look Dauntless.

I slip into the dark living room, and head towards the door, in search of one of her friends.

"Hello there."

I spin around and see Tori sitting at the table, her injured leg propped in a chair, her face barely visible in the shadows.

"Hey Tori. Can't sleep?"

"Nope. Ran out of pain meds yesterday," she gestures at her leg. "I guess we're going to have to invade Erudite to get some more."

"That's as good a reason as any." I smile at her.

She doesn't smile back. "How's Tris?"

"She's a survivor." I sit down next to her.

"She's more Dauntless than any of us."

I look on the table. Tori's been sketching again. She's filled the back of one of Evelyn's maps with drawings. A waterfall crashes into a pool, surrounded by twisted, evil-looking vines. Dozens of bony hands burst out of the ground, reaching up towards nothing. It looks a scene from someone's fear landscape – probably hers.

"You should have been Amity," I say, nodding towards the drawings. Tori frowns and flips the map over.

"No needles, no skin…gotta put the ink somewhere," she says, looking at her hands. Her nails are bitten raw.

"That's too bad, because I'm in the market for another tattoo," I say to her. "Guess I'll have to go to someone else."

"The hell you will," she says, looking up. Then she finally smiles. "I knew you'd be back. I've seen the way you look at her. You only get ink when you really care."

I give her a small smile. "Well, my back's full, so it will have to go here." I trace a circle on my chest, over my heart.

"It won't show," she says.

"Except to the only person that matters."

She grins and cracks her knuckles. "No needles around here, but how about a sketch? I'm thinking a big red heart…or some flowers…"

"Do you want me to throw up all over you?"

"Kidding, kidding." Suddenly, she turns serious, her eyes searching mine. "How does she make you feel?"

I look out the window at the street where I grew up - rows of houses, uniform and grey, once filled with people who never talked about their own feelings. Most of them are gone, and so is my reserve.

"She's…broken me open." I meet her gaze, for once hiding nothing. In the silence, a few birds start to sing.

Tori smiles and shakes her head.

"Now that is an achievement, Four, because you're a hard nut to crack," she says. The sun is up now, and I can see how tired she looks. There are new lines around her eyes.

She jerks her chin at me. "Get your shirt off."

I hesitate. This isn't an empty house; people will be waking up soon.

Tori raises her eyebrows. "What, only Tris can say that now?"

I groan as I tug my shirt over my head.

Tori grabs some markers off the table, and starts drawing on my chest. She bites her lip in concentration, and for the first time in days, I see the tension leave her eyes. For her, tattooing is a job, but the art behind it is a passion. Artists are brave too – there is freedom through expression.

"Right," she says, as she draws one last line, "Now all we need is a mirror…oh, yeah, this is an Abnegation house."

"There is one, it's just hidden." I lead her over to the hallway and slide back the panel. For a minute, I am nine years old again, sneaking glances at my reflection, daring my father's wrath, hoping for a different future.

I stare at Tori's drawing. On my back, the faction symbols are enclosed by circles – the choice that defines us, the ties that bind us. On my chest, a small raven rises up through that same circle, smashing it to bits. My Divergent heart, taking flight.

The bird has grey-blue eyes.

* * *

**So that's it, Four's final tattoo (and one for Tris as well). This was hard to write, mostly because I wanted to give them a happy ending, but I wanted to write it right after that scene, and they would both know that the war could come between them at any moment. So it's sad too. This is what felt right. I like it, do you? Tell me what you think!**

**Thanks to 265, josiemausconn, bookfreakz, cindella204, WillowBee, Serenity2012, Prim12, virtualcupcakes99, emzydivey, Evelyn1003, voiceonfire, octobermarie, and trobiasforever for your reviews, you are the best. I am shy about messaging, so just want you to know that I read them and THANK YOU! Now back to my other story...stay tuned.  
**

**-wk  
**


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